


out, darned spot

by itsprobably2amhere



Series: their exits and their entrances [1]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Gen, he also goes through some nasty shock, huh, post-Death of the Outsider, spoilers for nonlethal ending, the Outsider takes a bath, there's a tag for that?, there's some repeating word motifs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 16:07:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12112332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsprobably2amhere/pseuds/itsprobably2amhere
Summary: Wherein the Outsider takes a bath and goes through shock, and Billie Lurk threatens murder if he drowns.





	out, darned spot

**Author's Note:**

> i took a bath after finishing (a playthrough of) Death of the Outsider (because i can't buy videogames) and i sort of stood there introspecting for twenty minutes thinking about the outsider taking a bath and introspecting. also, i haven't posted fic in ages. i write like two(2) fics a year, lmao.
> 
> any inconsistencies in canon or with characterization can be chalked up to me being a pretty new fan and not having gone thru the entirety of (a playthrough of) dh2 yet. mea culpa.
> 
> pretty long author's note for a thousand words, lmao

 

The Outsider, Great Leviathan, Sworn Enemy of the Abbey, sat in a bathtub, looking well and thoroughly soaked from the chest down.

He technically wasn’t any of these things anymore. Well, he was definitely still the Sworn Enemy of the Abbey, although he’d left behind the power to do the deeds they accused him of, but he definitely wasn’t a Great Leviathan anymore, and he’d vacated his position as the Outsider. He gave it little time before the Void chose his successor, and he hoped they weren’t quite as bloodthirsty and micromanaging as Delilah. And, now… Now, he was just a four-thousand-year-old boy, who’d been soaking wet for several millennia, and who’d been rushed to the nearest bath to wash off his, quoth Billie Lurk, “wet dog smell”. (She’d taken a Karnacan noble’s house for the job, for the curious.)

He moved his leg, and he felt the water slide alongside it. His hair felt moldy and greasy, and he wasn’t very keen on the idea of actually dunking his head under the increasingly darkening water, which was now a mysterious grayish-brown. He lifted his hands, staring at the palms. His brain felt like static. He had to make an effort to remember his knowledge, now, and most of his brain was busy processing the feelings that came with actually touching things and not just barely avoiding phasing them, as he used to do. Logically, he gave it little time until his skin desensitized. Emotionally, he felt like it would last forever. And instinctively, he faintly remembered how he knew how hagfish felt being boiled alive for a couple of recipes forgotten a long time ago.

He felt exhausted. Not tired, or sleepy, or a dozen other adjectives for the body’s exhaustion, cells wasting away and fats consumed and an instinctual need for sleep arising after arduous physical exercise. He felt exhausted, in whale-bones he’d never actually had, in the way his eyes stared off at nothing, in the endless pit in his stomach, blue as the Void, asking a question: _What do I do now, then?_

The Outsider felt empty, plain and simple, like a room with all the chairs turned upwards and the door locked closed.

He gave it little time before Billie came knocking, so he made an effort to grab the soap and try to scrub himself. He caught it, carefully lifted it, and stopped. He left ir back where it was, and stared at the bottles of perfume and other elegant things the noble kept in their bathroom.

He moved his leg, and he felt the water slide alongside it.

There was a knock at the door. _There it is_ , he thought.

“Is everything alright?” Billie’s voice was muffled by the bathroom’s heavy wooden door. The Outsider nodded vaguely, caught up in his own head.

“You’ve been in there quite a while. Have you drowned?” continued Billie, after a pause. “If you’ve drowned, after all this damn time and work to turn you human, I swear I’ll-- I’ll kill you…?” There was doubt in her voice. He cleared his throat.

“I’m fine. I was just… introspecting.” _Ah_ , he’d said that too low. Billie wouldn’t hear him, and she’d pester him again--

Billie opened the door and put her hands on her hips. “You’ve forgotten how to bathe, haven’t you.” It didn’t sound like a question, but it’d be fairly indign of him to not answer:

“I know how to bathe, thank you very-- _AH!_ ” A small bucket had appeared, filled with fresh water, and had emptied itself on his head, courtesy of Billie. He moved his leg involuntarily, and he felt the water slid along with it. He shook his head. Droplets went everywhere, and Billie stared at him.

“You look like a wet kitten,” she said, disbelievingly. He grimaced as she turned towards the bathroom sink, and she came back to pour the water again on his head. She gave him the soap.

“It’s your job to do this part, not mine,” she said. Billie turned around while the Outsider, still feeling like his soul had pins-and-needles, scrubbed himself clean. He felt the soap against his hand. He felt his fringe, wet against his forehead, dripping little waterdrops. He re-accommodated his leg against the bathtub, and he felt the water slide alongside it. It was real, all real, and yet it didn’t feel like that. He blinked. He finished with the soap and left it in a large seashell, apparently brought from Pandyssia or something, which was where he’d found it. Billie turned around, brandishing an open towel.

“Okay, now get up and wrap yourself up in this.” Her words were like strict instructions, but no matter their harshness, he was kind of thankful. He felt he might’ve drifted forever in the grimy washtub without them. Well. Without Billie, he might’ve drifted forever in another grimy washtub, although an impossibly larger one.

“Stay here; I’ll get you some clothes.” she instructed, and left the room, closing the door as she went. The Outsider dried himself with the towel. When he was finished, he thought for a second about where to tie it, before decided on his waist.

The Outsider paused to think about his Marked, and what would happen to them; he felt especially guilty about Empress Emily, who’d had his powers for such a short time. He hoped Billie might sneak him into the palace, although this was unlikely, since she wasn’t exactly attached to him, or poised towards doing him any favors. Still, it’d be nice to see the Royal Protector and the Empress again.  

He sat down on the floor, carefully picking a dry spot. His legs still weren’t used to being… well, _used_ , and he’d rather not get tired. The door opened, and Billie walked inside again, holding some clothes.

“They’re sturdy. You’ll need more, but this’ll work for now. I stole this from the noble’s son; he looked about your age.” She paused. “...Your _physical_ age, I mean.”

She emptied the bathtub as the Outsider put the clothes on. He felt very thankful. He didn’t know if he could’ve worn his Outsider gear again. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror; a little tight around the shoulders, but fine. He’d always been a little broad-shouldered. And… _wow_ , he _really_ had missed having fresh, clean clothes on.

“You’re looking good,” said Billie. She sounded smug. He remembered he knew she’d heard someone complain about how everyone thought the Outsider was a handsome young man; _it_ was _obviously_ a whale, they’d said. He extrapolated he was looking… he didn’t know if _handsome_ was the right word, but _aesthetically appealing_ could be.

“Thank you. I think I’m too young for you, though.”

“Bullshit. You’re four millennia old.” She sighed. “What do we do with the old threads? I vote we burn them.”

“You burnt your ship with Daud’s corpse in it. You’re quite the pyromaniac.”

“It’s a good way of getting closure. Are we burning them or not?”

“...That sounds good. I’ll keep the coat, though.” He’d been proud of that coat, thousands of years ago. If he recalled, it had cost a lot of coin. Something to remember the thousand-year-old-boy by, when his face changed and his bones stretched and wrinkles started decorating his green-again eyes.

“Okay. Let’s go,” she decided. Billie walked out the door, and the Outsider paused to think.

“Wait, Billie -- before you go, what are the chances of you taking me to Dunwall?” he asked, hurrying out the door. He gave it little time before Billie laughed at his face -- _there it was_.

Well. He’d find his way soon.

**Author's Note:**

> 3:30 AM edit: i forgot to add this before, but the first line originally read "The Outsider, Great Leviathan, Sworn Enemy of the Abbey, sat in a bathtub, looking well and thoroughly soaked from the tits down.". i hope you enjoyed that piece of trivia


End file.
